


Free To a Good Home

by orphan_account



Series: Avengers Free to a Loving Home [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- Littles are known, Baby Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Caregiver Stephen Strange, Deaf Clint Barton, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard is alive, Kid Bruce Banner, Littles Are Known, Non-Sexual Age Play, Protective Nick Fury, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, Tony Stark-centric, introduction to the rest of the series, little Tony, little bruce, little! bruce banner, little! tony stark, nsap, toddler Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-11-27 15:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20950316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Littles are known. Tony is taken to a facility by Howard so he can get the help he needs after refusing to be little and getting seriously ill. There, he gets taken to the A-Sector, where he meets Bruce Banner, among other littles and bigs.Took canon and looted it for valuables. Nobody tell the guards.





	Free To a Good Home

Tony held onto his backpack tightly, shoulders hunched as he looked around the facility, turning back to look at his father who just kept carrying on the conversation with the social worker with a stern frown. He caught Howard’s eye, but he quickly looked away to avoid the weight of the gaze that didn’t hide how disappointed he was in Tony.

Tony couldn’t deny that even though this facility must be a gift to many others who were in the same boat as him, it felt an awful lot like a way for Howard to put him in a place where he could easily forget about Tony and Tony’s “condition”.

Tony read through some of the posters on the wall about the facility. There were about 50 patients at any given time, it was built for people who had “different needs”, it was a temporary transitional home for people who were looking to be adopted into a new family.

“Anthony?” an older man asked, pulling Tony out of his thoughts.

Tony gave the older man a smile, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. The man just gave Tony a small smile, gesturing with his head down the hall. “Follow me, please. We can get you situated in one of the dorm rooms in the north wing, in the A-Sector as per the Director’s decision.”

Tony followed silently, hands scratching idly at the skin around his reactor.

“My name is Stephen, by the way, in case if you ever need something.”

Tony hummed in response. “You been working here for long?”

“Well... No. I’m a neurosurgeon, but I work here as a volunteer because my schedule and lifestyle don't permit me to have a little of my own at the moment. It'd be unfair to adopt one and just end up neglecting them because I get called off to work all the time, so I just come here in order to remain healthy and help little ones always stay in good condition.”

Somewhere in one of the rooms that they passed, laughter filtered through the door.

“What about you, Anthony? Do you have a particular goal in mind? Do you think you’d be working?”

“Yeah. I build stuff,” he says simply as if he hasn’t already graduated MIT and worked for Stark Industries for a while before his Classification came along and ruined everything because Howard didn't want him to "work while in an unsteady state of mind".

Stephen gave him a small humoring smile. Relief washed over Tony. Thank God. Stephen didn't know who in the hell he was and with enough luck, maybe nobody else would recognize him. “That’s great to hear. Now then, here we are. Room 56677. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

He patted Tony on the shoulder before stepping away.

Tony stood there, alone to analyze every small detail of the room as his mind switched into overdrive and he felt his chest begin to tighten. The air became too thick and too thin all at once, resting like molasses at the bottom of his lungs, heavy, dark, and aching.

He wanted to go home.

Tony blinked hard, trying to make the quivering, cowardly thing inside of his chest still long enough for him to get a single breath in. 

He wanted to go _home_.

Gods he was so **_stupid_**. This entire thing was his fault.

He stumbled into the bathroom and propped himself against the edge of the bathtub. He remained there until his shoulders stopped quaking and his mind returned from its trip to the ink-black abyss of fear and uncertainty. He didn't know when time unfroze, but when it did, he no longer felt stuck under water.

He opened his eyes, unsure of when he'd closed them, and entered his room again to try and look at it without the anxious perspective of a captive.

In spite of his misgivings, the room was better than what Tony had expected, with a comfortable bed, nightstand, study table, and even a walk-in closet and bathroom.

It almost looked normal. If one didn’t know what to look for, they might not know that the room was meant for a little.

The walls were covered in a soft blue hue with a pattern of stars that stretched across the walls, though that could be mistaken for an artistic choice. The bedsheets were covered in rockets, though again, that could be explained away. Under the bed were cabinets that contained most of the little gear that someone in Tony’s age range would need.

Perhaps the most damning thing was the chest pressed against the wall, undoubtedly full of toys. Or maybe it was the pamphlet on the nightstand about being Little, and how it worked, biologically and emotionally.

The health effects of refusing to be little.

Maybe it was the stuffed toy on the bed. The changing table. The mobile hanging on the ceiling. The rocking chair for more than one person.

Tony sunk to the floor near the door, his fingers pulling at the soft thread of the rug tiredly in spite of it being noon. He didn’t want to be here anymore.

It felt wrong, somehow, and damn what every single health article said about how being little was a biological predisposition. It felt _wrong_. And didn’t want to be here anymore.

He wanted to go home, where he could pretend none of this was real and he didn’t need to sit here looking at things that he didn’t want to want but wanted anyways. It was stupid.

In spite of being in a facility specifically built to care for littles, he found it ironic that he’d never felt more resentful of the fact that he was a little.

The door clicked open. Howard gave him a passing glance before he continued to inspect the rest of the room. “You have access to the labs here. You can create from there since you’re already graduated and don’t need to think about school.”

“Why do I have to be here?” he asked with a tone that was _not_ pleading.

Howard sighed, hands clenching on the curtain as he shoved it to the side. “You know why.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“Tony-”

The words spilled out before he could stop them and push them back, shooting out in a single breath. “Are you ashamed of me?”

An icy silence greeted his words before Howard finally found words. “Perhaps you could find someone to take care of you while you're here. Anyways. It’s one of the best facilities for... your kind.”

_Your kind._

The words didn't sting.

They_ didn't._

“We can't have another one of your... episodes. Plus, you won’t need to worry about a repeat of what happened last time. Your mother worries about what may happen. And at least here, you'll be safe from public scrutiny and any danger from people who could target you while you're in an unfit state of mind to defend yourself.”

Tony drifted through the rest of the exchange, watching Howard try to keep the one-sided conversation alive before he finally left with a frustrated sigh.

He wasn't hurt by the fact that Howard had thrown him away in this god-forsaken facility so he could be little away from the prying eyes of the public.

So that Tony wouldn't tarnish his image. 

So that he didn't have to look at the reminder of what his mistakes had caused every time he looked at Tony and the glowing reactor in Tony's chest.

And only because of what had happened.

Well. That’s fine.

This is _fine._

All of this... is **_fine._**

He'd built his way out before. He can do it again.

  
-

Tony sat in one corner of the room at one of the round tables, scowling as he stared at the stupid art supplies scattered all over the stupid table. It was one of the A-Sector days, so he at least didn’t have to deal with the entire population of the facility being in one room, but _still_.

The activity of the day included arts and crafts- his arch-nemesis. He was smart and he could make robots and AI’s and he could program like nobody’s business... but for the life of him, he couldn’t make the dumb origami thing they were teaching.

If Rhodey were here, Tony was _sure_ that Rhodey would be able to help, but he wasn't, so Tony was just here. Stuck until they finished this activity. 

So he didn’t, crossing his arms and scowling at the paper and at every single one of the caretakers who tried to ask and prod at him to do so. Tony was sure that someone higher up had told them to not push him too much, though, which might be why they didn't force him, or punish him, or hurt him. Though, Tony was also pretty sure that hurting littles in these places was illegal, that didn't mean that it never happened.

“You want help?” asked a small voice. Tony looked over, seeing one of the other littles standing there with a timid and hesitant smile.

Tony looked down at the badge on the guy’s chest, reading the name “BRUCE” printed across in green marker.

“It’s alright... It’s not like it’s being graded anyway,” Tony said with a smile, pointing at the chair next to him for Bruce to sit. “I’m Tony.”

Bruce sat down in the plastic blue chair. “Hi, Tony. I’m Bruce. You’re new.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, scratching at his chin. “How long’ve you been here?”

Bruce thought for a second, then began working on his origami as he responded. “Several months now, I think. I got rescued from a bit of a bad situation, classified, and then I got taken here because I need a bit of... help sometimes in ways that other facilities don't offer and I can't get at home. How about you?”

Tony hesitated, fiddling with the marker he was holding. “I... got classified, but I tried to ignore it, but the more I ignored it, the worse it got.”

Bruce nodded knowingly. “That’s normal when ignoring biological needs, but continue.”

“And I... heard of these pills online which could repress those needs. And I run this company with my dad, so I can’t just take time _off_, you know? So I... took these pills and they helped for a bit.”

“Then they wore off and the urge got stronger.”

Tony looked up to analyze Bruce’s face, though Bruce seemed focused on his task, his face devoid of any judgment.

“Yeah... And I spiraled down and my mom found me in the bathroom and they rushed me to the ER for treatment. So they took me away from home to recover here until I can... You know. Feel better, I guess. Or find a caregiver.”

Bruce gave him a small and gentle smile. “Well... They have the _best_ ice cream here, no lie, so there's a silver lining to the cloud, at least.”

Tony chuckled, thrown off by the sudden change in tone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Though technically, you need to do something to earn it, like self-care and maybe homework and stuff but it’s worth it. I usually work in the lab and help others for points in order to get goods.”

Tony perked up at the mention of the lab. “Is the lab equipped to create AI’s and bots? I’ve been itching to make something recently.”

“Oh yeah, totally. If you want, I can go with you on your first few visits.” Bruce finished up his little creation, handing it over to be inspected. Tony moved it up to his face, smiling softly at it as he turned it over in his hands. A green paper dinosaur. It was... very cute.

“Also, have you met many of the others? I noticed that in the main hub, when people try to talk to you, you just look very sad and then they leave after a while.”

_Outed_. “Well... Not really, no. I’m not... good at this stuff.”

Bruce grabbed a red piece of paper this time, starting again. “Well, that’s alright. It took me a while to get used to all of this, too. And even then, I’m not small all the time. You don't seem very little right now.”

Tony picked a piece of lint off of his hoodie. "Yeah. I spent like a week being little in the hospital, so I guess I got my fair share of time in headspace. It also just feels... awkward, I guess."

Bruce hummed in understanding and looked around the rest of the room. “Luckily, most of the people here are pretty cool.” 

He pointed at a boy in a purple sweater and black joggers who was busy throwing snacks into his mouth and missing terribly. “That one’s Clint. He was found living in a circus and then he was taken here. He’s an archer and he has a dog named Lucky!”

“He looks nice.”

Bruce nodded, finishing yet another origami piece of a frog. “He’s nice. But you gotta sometimes repeat stuff because he’s deaf. And sometimes he also forgets his hearing aids in weird places, like the fridge and in the vents, which is why the Director had the vents screwed shut extra hard. I guess he got tired of dealing with littles getting stuck in the vents.”

“Oh, alright. Is that his... special ‘situation’ or can he, like, transform into a fire giant?”

Bruce laughed under his breath. “No, Clint is here because he works for SHIELD when he’s big, so he needs a bit of a flexible caregiver and also he needs a bit of extra help when he’s small because, well, I doubt that doing agent work is easy on the brain or the body.”

“Makes sense,” Tony replied, somehow unsurprised with Clint’s situation. He hesitated for a second, asking with as much delicacy as he could muster. “And what about you?”

Bruce smiled awkwardly, shifting on the spot. “Well... Have you heard of the Hulk?”

There was a very distinct pause as Tony’s eyes flew over Bruce’s face and frame and he sighed. “Doctor Bruce _Banner_. Of course.”

“Nice to meet you, Tony Stark.”

Tony gave Bruce a funny look. “You know me?”

“You have a glowing arc reactor in your chest, Tony. It’s hard to mistake you for someone else.”

“That’s... fair.”

Bruce handed Tony his other creation, a red dragon with majestic wings. "Here you are. You can have them both! Do you want me to teach you?"

Tony hesitated for a second, then nodded sheepishly. 


End file.
